


Some Wine with Your Nightmares

by BandaBecca



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 08:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandaBecca/pseuds/BandaBecca
Summary: Meeting on the battlements after nightmares has become a regular occurrence for the Inquisitor and her Commander. She suggests a way to deal with their dreams...Inspired by a comic by SiriusDraws





	Some Wine with Your Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try DA Drunk Writing for the first time with my Inquisitor Olivier (oh-LIV-ee-ay).
> 
> Check out my bandabecca Tumblr if you feel so inclined!
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3

I traced the edges of a fire rune looking out at the mountains surrounding Skyhold. How quickly a proper road had been made, torches lit three kilometres out though no one was heading in tonight, neither merchant nor pilgrim. I took a deep, slow breath through my nose, blowing the air out through my mouth, frost magic dancing across the rune, extinguishing it. The stone was still warm.

I heard the approach, recognising the clipped, wide steps which came up behind me so often in war meetings. The footsteps stopped as the figure leaned over the battlements, posture mirroring mine. ‘We have to stop meeting like this,’ I said.

Cullen laughed softly. ‘Neither of us would know what to do with a full night’s rest.’

‘I’m wondering if the dreams keep coming only because they don’t want to let us down when we're expecting them.’ He didn’t have a response to that, and the cold wind was hard enough to push the hood off my head. It was almost enough to want to go back inside. ‘I dreamed of you tonight.’

But he knew well enough not to imagine it the least bit romantically. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘But you aren’t that. Him.’ I tucked my hair behind my ear, trying to clear the fog from my brain—the images of Cullen consumed by red lyrium. Cutting through Dorian. Dorian dead in my arms. Cullen raising his sword once again…

I rubbed my hands over my eyes and stood up straight. Acting bolder than I felt, I slipped my hand over his forearm, tucking my fingers into the warmth in the crook of his arm. ‘I have a bottle of wine in my quarters. Let’s have a glass.’

He didn’t protest, and I was suddenly too shy to risk looking at him when I could see from the corner of my eye that he was watching me.

Walking through the doors to the Main Hall he asked, ‘Who’s this bottle from?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Don’t ask, you’ll just get angry.’

‘It was Lord Izibas, wasn’t it?’

I laughed. ‘It was. Which is why I haven’t touched it until now. But it really does seem a waste not to enjoy it, regardless. The wine can’t help who gifted it.’

The hall was empty as we walked through, and I let go of his arm to open the door to my quarters. Neither of us said a word as we ascended the levels of stairs, and the silence clawed at me, begging me to fill it. 

Cullen had been to my quarters a few times before, but we both felt the veil of…something hovering over us as we ascended alone, no Leliana or Josephine there to make the weight over us feel less heavy. The bed was unmade, and I fought the overwhelming urge to apologise or go make it. 

I handed him the bottle to open so I could pull my desk chair near the bed. From the nightstand, I offered two mismatched glasses. He smiled as he poured the first, and I took it, sitting in the chair as the sound of a second glass filling echoed behind me. He laid the bottle on the desk before sitting across from me on the bed. 

We both raised our glasses. ‘To…’ he began.

I covered the silence, ‘Josephine catering to the nobles so we don’t have to.’ He smiled, and we clinked our glasses. 

‘I don’t know how it is on your side of the war table,’ he said, taking a sip of his wine, ‘but no matter what Josephine does, somehow I still end up catering to nobles.’

I swallowed a large gulp and laughed. ‘Well, that certainly doesn’t sound like you, Commander.’ I teased. ‘I’m full of hot air. I help them sometimes when I’m out doing Inquisitorial Business. I’ve completed several missions for nobles, even ones I hate. For free! Now you know, and the secret is out at last.’ 

‘I can never look at you the same again,’ he declared, taking another drink. 

The silence filled out around us, but it didn’t feel heavy like it did before. I watched him as he swirled his wine absently in his glass.

‘How much do you think Leliana knows about us?’

His eyes shot up. ‘What do you mean?’ 

‘I wonder if she knows we’re here right now drinking this wine. Does she sleep? Is there a scout telling her that she saw you follow me into my quarters while she also knows that I was given this wine several weeks ago and that I tend not to drink alone, so she can put together exactly what we’re doing right now?’

He pulled his glass away from his lips.

‘You never think about that?’

He cleared his throat. ‘Um, I try not to.’

I chuckled nervously. ‘Well I have. I feel like invasions of my privacy are pretty strong motivators.’

He took another sip, and I left my desk chair to sit next to him. His eyes followed me, and I circled the rim of my glass with my finger thinking. ‘Cullen?’

I looked up to find his eyes on mine, clear and honey brown like always. ‘Hm?’

‘Have you ever tried stopping the nightmares?’

He lowered his glass to rest on his knee. ‘Yes. But nothing works. I tried a sleeping draught, but instead of giving me a dreamless sleep, I still had the nightmares but couldn’t wake myself when things got…’

I sighed. ‘I understand.’

‘Have you?’

I swirled the dark liquid around the clear glass testing how high it could climb the edges without spilling. ‘I’ve tried writing them down. Mother Giselle said that would help. I tried once singing myself to sleep. Tried imaging happy scenarios in my mind so they'd be there playing in my mind once I slipped into the Fade…’ I took another sip. ‘But um, no luck so far.’

Silence closed in around us once again. 

I picked a ball of lint off my trousers. ‘I can’t do this forever.’

He looked up at me then. ‘You shouldn’t have to.’

‘Cullen, I…’ I looked up at him desperately. ‘I can’t get rid of the Anchor. Not without…and people still need me to have it so I can…’

Was it me, or had the temperature risen?

‘Olivier, no.’ He grabbed my left hand, the Anchor silent despite the blood rushing through my veins. ‘Are things so…are you in that much pain?’

I laughed, but the sound rang hollow. ‘Pain? Yes, but that’s not what I…my connection to the Fade is getting stronger. My dreams are becoming completely uncontrollable. When I’m awake, there are moments when I catch myself in a moment of un-concentration when I feel like the Veil is…I can see things, but when I blink, they’re gone…’

His grip tightened on my hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell me—tell us,’ he corrected himself.

I gripped the glass tighter. I probably should have told Solas by now, but I didn’t want him telling Leliana when it would surely launch an investigation and I couldn’t use Inquisition resources on a personal matter when I knew too well how thin our people were spread around Thedas. ‘I can’t lose my hand yet—’

‘Olivier, no. I …please don’t…’ He closed his eyes, only for a moment, before raising them back to mine, bloodshot and wide. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

I had to catch my breath under his gaze before I could move again. When I did, the look in his eyes hadn’t softened. ‘I feel like I…’ I’d only had a few sips of the wine, but maybe it was enough to say what I had been thinking for this long. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere. Not if you aren't there too,’ I said, shy eyes on my lap as an exchange for braver words. 

His hand moved almost like a twitch before moving forward more confidently. He rested it on my knee so hesitant, so light, as if he might not have done it at all, that it was just a gust of wind. But I felt the difference in the air. I grasped his hand, closing my fingers around his, looking up at him. 

I’d wanted things to change, and here he was, in my chambers, wine in hand, starlight and candlelight mingling to cast an eerie but not unpleasant shadow in the room. I released his fingers and trailed my own slowly up his arm, too afraid to look away from my them to watch his face. When I reached the warm skin of his neck, I turned my gaze to his. His face was open, eyes unshielded like I’d never seen them. I licked my lips and my eyes darted to that scar I’d thought about tasting countless times, even when we were in the War Room and Leliana and Josephine were only a few metres away. 

‘Olivier,’ he whispered, leaning into my hand just enough for my breath to catch. 

I set my glass on the table beside my bed. I turned back to him, his eyes on my chest before snapping back up to my eyes. I took a deep breath before speaking. ‘I have an idea. It might be a bad idea.’

His Adam’s Apple bobbed. ‘What is it?’

‘I thought that maybe, if neither of us can sleep well alone, we might sleep together.’ I swallowed and waited for him to speak. When it took him a moment, my cheeks flushed and I regretted every syllable. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why I—’

‘We could try.’

I paused. ‘Are you sure?’

‘The Templars said that I talk in my sleep, so I may disrupt you.’

‘Oh,’ I laughed nervously. ‘Actually, the Anchor flickers in the night. It’s not quiet, and that might disrupt you.’ 

He didn’t smile as he put his glass next to mine, his shoulder rubbing against mine. ‘If you’d still like to, let’s try.’

I paused before standing. ‘All right.’ He stood too, and I pulled back the layers of sheets. I climbed in, feeling watched, but I turned my body toward his regardless. ‘If um…you can’t sleep, you can go back to your own quarters. Don’t feel like you have to stay.’

He climbed in next to me, and I pressed my lips together to hide the smile as he pulled the covers over us both. ‘And if I wake you, please do ask me to sleep in my own quarters.’

I laid my head on the pillow, already feeling the warmth of him just centimetres away, but feeling that moving any closer would be too bold to even consider. I turned away from him to blow out one of the candles. He turned to do the same to the candle on his side, but I put my hand on his shoulder. He turned back to me. ‘If you don’t mind, could we leave one lit?’

He didn’t make me explain, just nodded and pulled the sheets up to his shoulders. We looked at each other for a breath of a moment. ‘Good night, Cullen.’

‘Good night, Olivier,’ he said back. 

I closed my eyes but felt watched, so I rolled to my other side. The room felt too quiet, and I felt too alert with him sleeping so close, but the Fade pulled me in sooner than I could have hoped.

 

My eyes felt heavy, but something was different. I didn’t feel as exhausted as usual upon waking, as if I couldn’t rise from the bed without someone prying me away from it. But there was something else.

An arm was over me, curled around so a hand grasped my right breast. I took a deep breath, eyes shooting open before I remembered where I was. Yes, Cullen had slept me with me last night. I had…I had slept until morning with no nightmares. 

I shifted, and he moved, a deep breath like a snore rumbling deep in his chest as his hand shifted to my own, the fingers wrapping in mine. I breathed a sigh of relief though every inch of my back and legs was against him, the heat so delicious that I had a hard time maintaining the sleepy feelings of the morning. I turned my face into the pillow and smiled. 

But I couldn’t help the sensation that came over me hot and fast. That I needed to rub myself against him. I couldn't resist and I did, my skin soaking in every line, every groove of his own. A few more breaths, and his muscles tightened ever so slightly. He was awake now, and I froze suddenly felt like I had been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. 

I stirred in my sleep pointedly and turned to face him, eyes opening slowly. ‘G’morning.’

He smiled and stretched his arms up before laying them gently on the pillow next to his head. ‘Morning.’

‘Did you sleep?’

His eyes were clear, open, and I could feel in my bones exactly how he felt. ‘Yes.’

‘Me too.’ I pulled my knees to my chest, the motion rubbing my legs against his.

‘Maybe we should…’

At the bottom of the stairs, the door opened and a soft voice called up. ‘Olivier, please tell me you’ve slept in at last?’

The head of my friend, Mai came around the corner, her eyes falling on Cullen and I. She stopped so suddenly that the water in the pitcher she was carrying sloshed over the rim. 

‘Uh…’ I propped myself up on my elbow. ‘Mai, please don’t tell anyone—’

She giggled and suddenly came back to life, turning to the small table near my bed. ‘I’ll just put this pitcher here, Inquisitor.’ Her use of my title felt all kinds of wrong. ‘Just call down if you need me for anything else. Like tea. Tea with special her--’

I cut her off. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you in a little bit.’

She walked to the top of the stairs but made no move to go down them. 

‘In a little bit,’ I said, more forcefully.

She pinched her lips together and darted down.

I flopped back on the pillow. ‘She’s my friend. She won’t say anything.’

‘I wasn’t worried.’

I turned to him not sure he meant something deeper than whether Mai would tell what she saw. ‘But worrying is what you do best.’

He shrugged, and I laughed. I laughed longer than the situation called for until I couldn’t stay my hand a moment longer and reached for him, overwhelmed.


End file.
